


206: I Never Left

by harlequin (julie)



Series: Season 2 [6]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-05
Updated: 2009-11-05
Packaged: 2017-11-06 10:52:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/harlequin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin turns up unexpectedly in Arthur’s room late one night <em>again</em>. What’s a prince to do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	206: I Never Left

♦

Arthur fell onto the mattress with a _whump_ , and blew out the candle. Merlin decided to have some fun with him, remembering the Dragon calling Merlin during his first days in Camelot. _‘Arthur…’_ he intoned, hollowing his voice as if it came from the caverns deep beneath the castle. _‘Arrr–thurrr…’_

The prince scrambled out of bed and drew his sword with a _shring_. ‘Who’s there?’ he demanded.

Merlin slid halfway out from under the bed. ‘Merlin!’

‘Oh!’ cried Arthur in surprise – though he immediately regathered his cool. ‘You’re back.’

‘I never left.’

‘Do you mean to say –’

‘Yes.’

‘– you’ve been under there this whole time?’

‘No!’ Merlin protested. ‘Of course not. No.’

‘Because if you were…’

‘I wasn’t, I swear.’ Merlin dragged the rest of himself out from under the bed and up onto his feet, while Arthur went to sit at his table, slumped somewhat dejectedly. ‘So,’ Merlin said brightly. ‘Your evil stepmother is a troll, then.’

Arthur was toying with the wickedly sharp little knife he used to cut into fruit and roast meats. ‘If you say I told you so –’

‘I wasn’t going to! I wouldn’t!’ Merlin grimaced a little to indicate that this should be filed under _Lessons Learned_. ‘But it’s true that if you’d listened to me earlier, then –’

The prince was distinctly unamused.

‘Sorry,’ Merlin offered, and he got to business. ‘Gaius and I believe your father’s been enchanted. We’ve found a way to break the spell. But we need your help.’

Arthur pondered him, still turning the knife about in his fingers. After a long moment, he let out a huff. ‘Can it wait for a few minutes?’

‘Yeah. I suppose.’ Merlin shrugged. ‘Depends how soon you want to be rid of the troll.’

A roll of the eyes. ‘I don’t suppose she’s doing any harm at this particular moment…’ Arthur frowned. ‘Except perhaps to my father.’ He shuddered, and then abruptly put down the knife. Held out his hand to Merlin. ‘God, come here, would you?’

Merlin grinned, happy for the change of subject. ‘Why? Did you miss me?’

‘Certainly not,’ retorted Arthur. But Merlin must have looked disappointed, because the prince relented a bit. ‘Well, I suppose there has been a certain element of… entertainment missing, in your absence.’

Merlin couldn’t quit grinning. He’d missed the prat – and he’d been sorry not to be there for Arthur during the whole disinheritance thing – but he didn’t mind Arthur knowing it. ‘I could… _entertain_ you now,’ he suggested.

A regally raised eyebrow met this notion. But then Arthur gestured impatiently at Merlin’s nethers. ‘You could start by stripping. That might be useful.’

Merlin guffawed, and started unbuckling his belt. ‘D’you want me to make a dance of it? Like they do down at the Cock ’n Tail Inn?’

Arthur looked outraged. ‘What do _you_ know about the Cock and Tail…?’

‘Nothing,’ he answered with all the innocence he could muster. ‘Anyway, dunno if I’d be much good.’

‘Exactly. You and your two left feet, your two left arms – two left _everything_. I thought you were simply proposing to make me laugh.’

Merlin waggled his eyebrows suggestively. ‘Nah. Not _that_ kind of entertainment.’

‘Pity,’ said Arthur. ‘Oh well. This’ll do, I suppose.’ Arthur’s mouth was kicking up at the far corner, as he tried not to be amused. He almost looked fond for a moment – though there were no candles lit, and Merlin couldn’t be sure of anything in the moonlight.

Merlin slowly stripped off his shirt as he stalked closer to where the prince sat. Arthur watched him, intent but a little removed. Considering. Which didn’t prevent Merlin from doing something he’d never dared do before. Certainly never before beyond the four posters of Arthur’s bed. He leant down and kissed his prince. And as he did so he thought, _You chose me_ – and some of that gratitude, some of that awe, some of that joy must have conveyed itself, insinuating itself into the kiss – for Arthur began kissing back with a sudden hunger. The kiss became a passionate, intense mouthing.

Then Merlin was sidling around even as Arthur pushed the chair back so that they were facing each other – Merlin was standing between the prince’s thighs, leaning in, his hands on the arms of the chair taking his weight. And Arthur was shifting lower in the chair, his hands running over Merlin’s flanks then curving round his hips, his rear – suddenly forcing him down closer, as he pushed his own hips forward. ‘Can you –’

‘If I –’

And they were pressing together, cock against cock, both proud and rampant, and the power of it surged through Merlin despite his britches, Arthur’s linens, despite his precarious balance, his bent posture – he cared nothing for any of that when it felt as if they were connected core to core.

‘Arthur, I –’

‘– I might have missed you –’

Rutting against each other now, Arthur pushing up into it, strong and sure, his hands demanding, guiding Merlin, who ground down against the man – mouth against mouth, his hands grasping the carved wood, cock against cock. Glorious. It was glorious.

‘– you chose me –’

‘– missed you a little… What? Merlin, I –’

‘– I said, _You chose me_. You protected me. You warned me.’

‘Shut up, Merlin. God, shut up, and – oh _god!_ ’

Merlin forced himself down harder, twisting his hips in savage joy, Arthur’s hands clutching, his fingers digging into Merlin’s flesh painfully, wonderfully.

‘You chose me!’ Merlin cried as he came –

– and even as he came, too, Arthur groaned, ‘Idiot, god damn it, you _idiot_ …’

And Merlin was so sensitised by the whole unexpected thing that he would have sworn he could feel them each pulsing against the other, their seed, their shudders, their heartbeats reverberating each within the other man.

Then Merlin’s arms gave out, and Arthur caught him – but still Merlin slithered down until he was kneeling on the floor between Arthur’s thighs, curled up with his face against the dampness of Arthur’s linens and his arms around Arthur’s waist.

‘You chose me,’ Merlin said again, quietly.

‘Idiot,’ said Arthur. He’d never sounded so fond. He stroked Merlin’s hair with one hand, let the other shape itself to Merlin’s shoulder. After a long while, he said, ‘Well, I suppose you’d better get me dressed.’ Warming to his theme, he continued, ‘And make up the bed, would you? And put my armour away. I'll send a guard to fetch Gaius, so you can tell me this great plan of yours…’

♦

Once it was all over, Arthur happened to come out of the council chambers just after Merlin walked past. ‘Merlin!’ he called. When they were standing by each other in the corridor, Arthur made a princely statement in which he claimed to have never doubted Merlin – which was both ludicrous and flattering. Merlin couldn’t help but challenge him. Arthur concluded, however, that, ‘Without your help, I’d still have a troll for a stepmother.’ He left a long pause, a very long pause – and then lifted a hand to Merlin’s shoulder, saying, ‘Well, thanks.’

 _Thank you._ The prince had said thank you! And was reaching towards him. Which was a highly unexpected turn of events. Merlin grinned – he’d been doing a lot of that lately – and, overcome with affection for the prat, he lifted his own arms, moved into Arthur’s offered embrace…

‘Whoa!’ Arthur quickly stepped back with a frown, his hands in the air warding Merlin off. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I thought you were going for a hug.’

‘Nooo…’

‘No.’

Slowly, warily they both lowered their hands, Arthur looking at Merlin as if to say, _What were you even **thinking**?_ And then at last the prince strode off.

Merlin shook his head. All right, not in public. In the dark, the middle of the night – in the prince’s rooms, the prince’s bed, his chair… Yes. But not in public. Not in daylight. Merlin pondered for a moment, but concluded that he could live with that.

Because, anyway – no matter what else had or hadn’t happened – _He thanked me_ , Merlin reflected. _He said thanks_. It wasn’t often he felt appreciated. _And he chose me_. Merlin grinned, bubbling with happiness. The crown prince of Camelot had been given an order by the king, his beloved father. And Arthur had disobeyed it.

_Arthur chose **me**._

♦


End file.
